Let Evening Come – Jane Kenyon
Let late afternoon light shine through chinks in the barn, moving up the bales as the sun moves down.
Let the cricket take up chafing as a woman takes up her needles and yarn.
Let evening come.
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned in the long grass.
Let the stars appear, and the moon discloses her silver horn.
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down.
Let the shed go black inside.
Let evening come.
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop in the oats, to air in the lung, let evening come.
Let it proceed as it will, and don’t be afraid.
God does not leave us comfortless, so let evening come.
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